Chapter 10
When Leonore awoke, she found a leaflet in her mailbox, with the title: “Collection for the Eastern Front.” She was about to put it on the pile of paper for burning when her eye fell on the word “Jews” further down the page.
Anger rose in her throat. She clenched her fist around the piece of paper, crumpling it to a tiny ball, before sinking down onto the bed. In the absence of a chair, it was the only place to sit.
Holding the ball of paper in her fist, she took two deep breaths before she smoothed it out to read.
Simmering rage boiled up within her, and she tore the paper to shreds.
As they fluttered to the floor, she gazed in satisfaction at the chaos she had created.
Let Hitler rage if he wished, she certainly wouldn’t give up her cozy warm coat or her soft feather bed.
How else would she survive the nights in this bitterly cold apartment?
Since the coal stove was broken beyond repair, she had no way to heat her room.
She could put her coal money to good use elsewhere in any case.
She had long since sold the few valuables she owned, and was living from hand to mouth.
The salary Herr Balsen paid her didn’t stretch to any luxuries, since it barely covered rent and food.
The meagre remaining amounts she spent seeing her friends.
Due to the lack of clothing cards, she hadn’t bought new clothes for ages.
Let the Gestapo come and see for themselves that there was nothing left that they could steal from her.
She hurried out of the apartment, knowing full well she would have to sweep up the tattered scraps of paper once she returned home. Right now she didn’t have time – she wanted to be in the office to make coffee for her boss before he showed up.
Arriving at the office, she fished out the key from under the doormat, unlocked the door, and took off her coat with the star attached before she had even closed the door behind her.
She couldn’t wait to get rid of the thing.
It was only her imagination, of course, but whenever the star was attached to her coat, her skin itched like crazy under the “plaster”.
Instantly, she felt better. If that’s not bordering on a miracle cure, she thought cheerfully, humming a song as she made coffee.
Next she opened Herr Balsen’s business diary and noted his appointments for the day.
She was about to start typing up some handwritten letters for him when the door opened and her boss stepped in.
“You sound happy today, Fr?ulein Leonore.”
“Yes, well the sun is finally peeking through the thick clouds, and there was no air raid alarm last night. Oh, and the coffee has just brewed.”
“Well, that’s certainly a reason to be cheerful. When is my first appointment?”
“Not for another hour. I’ve written everything down for you.” Leonore handed him the list.
“In that case, please bring a coffee straight to my office and take some dictation.”
“Of course.” She tilted her head and looked at the man who had helped her out of a fix so many times. “I received a demand this morning to surrender my winter clothes.”
“I heard about that. I believe the deadline is the end of the week.” He scrutinized her closely. “Would you like a half day off tomorrow to see to that?”
“Definitely not. I need my warm coat.” She shrugged. “The demand is lying ripped to tiny shreds on my apartment floor.”
“What a headstrong young woman you are, Fr?ulein Leonore. Pour a cup of coffee for yourself too, and come into my office.” He locked the outer door, then disappeared into his office.
A cold shiver ran down Leonore’s back. Perhaps she should comply with the order? She tucked her shorthand notebook and pencil under her arm, grabbed the tray with two cups of coffee, and pushed open the door to Herr Balsen’s office with her foot.
“We’re out of sugar,” she said apologetically. “Would you like some honey?”
“No, thank you.” Herr Balsen grimaced. “I’ll bring some tomorrow. But first, we need to address your problem.”
Leonore wasn’t aware she had a problem.
“What were you thinking, simply ignoring a government order?”
She looked down at the floor guiltily.
He sighed “It’s a mystery to me how a conscientious secretary like yourself can disregard the most basic precautions in her private life. Especially in your precarious situation.”
“My situation is, as you so aptly put it, precarious enough. I need my warm things because I can’t heat my room, and I certainly don’t intend to meekly freeze to death – I refuse to give the Gestapo that satisfaction.”
“No, no one can accuse you of meekness, Fr?ulein Leonore.” He gave her such a long, hard stare that she began to feel queasy. Just as she was about to say something, he spoke again. “You should move out.”
“But why?”
“Oh, my dear. You will have to deliver something to the authorities by the deadline, or they’ll come for you sooner or later.”
“I’m not giving up my warm clothes, or I’ll freeze to death.”
“You see?”
“But where shall I go?”
He thought for a while and then said, “Here’s what you’ll do: go to your room and pack up your things. From now on, you’ll sleep here in the office.”
“Here?” Leonore’s eyes widened.
“At least until spring. Nevertheless, I advise you to hand in at least one old coat or jacket so they tick your name off, instead of putting it on the next deportation list.”
Leonore rolled her eyes. Herr Balsen meant well, but he lived in a completely different world. “I only own this one coat.”
“That is indeed… a problem.” He frowned, then announced: “I shall give you an old piece of clothing of my late mother’s. There must be something in the attic.”
“You really want me to live in the office?” It was beginning to dawn on Leonore that this was the perfect solution. If the Gestapo didn’t find her at her apartment, they couldn’t send her the dreaded deportation order.
“On the visitors’ sofa. Best pack your feather bed, cooking utensils and anything else important. I’ll have a messenger pick them up.”
“Thank you very much. You have no idea what this means to me.” With that, the conversation was clearly at an end, and Leonore sat to take dictation.
During her lunch break, she returned to the apartment – if that’s what you could call the small dank room with a wash basin and a communal kitchen.
She wouldn’t miss it. Herr Balsen’s office was distinctly more pleasant – and better heated.
It also had the advantage that it wasn’t in a Jewish quarter.
She wouldn’t have to constantly wear the hateful star, as nobody would suspect her of being Jewish when she left the building.
In fact, the Nazis had done her a favor with their crazy demand that she hand over her winter coat. Leonore was in good spirits. Let the Nazis waste their time thinking up ways to persecute her, she would always find a way around them.